A Second Chance in Somerset: Sweet Second Chances Persuasion Variation, #1

By Meg Osborne

A Match Made by the Musgroves...

 

When Anne Elliot goes to stay with her sister and brother-in-law at Uppercross, little does she realise that she's been the subject of discussion between Charles and Mary, who have both decided to spend the winter finding Anne a suitable husband. Neither know her heart was lost long ago...

 

Captain Frederick Wentworth is happy to stay with his sister at Kellynch Hall if Anne Elliot is gone, although being back in Somerset torments him with memories he'd thought long forgotten. When he meets Anne again, he is determined to leave the past in the past, but Charles and Mary Musgrove have other ideas.

 

A Second Chance in Somerset is a sweet regency retelling of Jane Austen's Persuasion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meg Osborne
• Release date: Jun 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201991982

Meg Osborne

Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd.  She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or adding more books to her tbr list than she'll get through in a lifetime.

Book preview

Chapter One

W hy do you think it is that our Anne has never married? Charles Musgrove asked his wife, one particularly cold and blustery evening at Uppercross Cottage. He cast a weary look at the table in front of him, where he had begun the time-consuming and rather dull task of cleaning his gun in advance of a day’s shooting on the morrow. He had servants that would undertake the task for him, of course, but Charles never did quite trust his rifles to another man. However, having begun the task he now found he was tired of it and left the gun stripped in pieces on an oily rag to protect his wife’s furniture.

I do not know. Mary yawned, then peered over the book she had been pretending to read for the last quarter of an hour to glare at his slow progress. I do wish you would not insist on undertaking your mechanical adventures in my parlour, Charles. If you scratch my table I shall -

It seems a shame, do not you think? Charles could be skilful in managing his wife’s moods and sensed that steering her back towards the cheerier topic of matrimony would keep her sweet a while longer. He leaned back in his chair, happy to let his gun sit in pieces while he pursued his thoughts. She is quite young still and rather pretty. He saw his wife’s eyebrow arch and hurried to clarify his words. "If you like that pale, bookish look to a lady. No, I suppose pretty is not an adjective we could apply to your sister. He sighed. But she is not unpleasant to look at. And so very agreeable!"

Yes. Mary pointedly turned a page she had not read. Anne is always so very agreeable. She yawned again and closed her book, admitting defeat at last. I suppose that is part of her problem. Gentlemen simply do not notice her. If she could have a little more spirit - like your sister Henrietta! Or be as accomplished as Louisa.

I wager she is more accomplished than Louisa shall ever be, Charles said, with a smirk.

His sister’s current mania for music expressed itself in the rather impractical and extravagant purchase of a harp, upon which she had mastered precisely one piece and was already beginning to tire of practising. No doubt it would go the way of the lute and the pianoforte in the past list of Louisa’s hobbies.

Anne can play the piano better than any lady I have ever known. Except for you, of course, my dear. He smiled at his wife but she did not see his look. She did not seem to have noticed his accidental slight either and Charles let out a sigh of relief.

It was true that he had once prized Anne Elliot’s accomplishments, her beauty and her being so very agreeable. He had prized them so highly after dancing with her at an assembly that he had taken himself off to Kellynch Hall and asked to marry him, which invitation she had gratefully received and firmly declined. Charles Musgrove’s heart was bruised but not beyond healing and but a few short weeks later he had persuaded himself that it was not Anne but her sister, Mary, who captured the whole of his affections. Mary had gleefully accepted his proposal, for she was the youngest and plainest of all three Elliot sisters and being the first to marry had given her significance. He supposed she was happy enough with her lot in life, as was he, although he did wish she would take more of an interest in things outside of herself and her own constitution.

I am so tired this evening! Mary declared, through yet another yawn. I do hope I am not sickening for something. I have felt out-of-sorts all day, and I hardly ate a thing at dinner!

Charles opened his mouth to remind his wife that she had welcomed a second serving of their evening’s rabbit stew, but was too comfortable, just then, to be minded to pick a fight.

Perhaps you will rally tomorrow with some fresh air. Why not walk over to the great house with me?

And go shooting? Mary eyed his dismantled gun with disdain and Charles forced himself to return to the disagreeable task of piecing it back together, rather wishing, now he was working at it, that he had handed off the job to a servant after all.

I do not believe you have ever shot a thing in your life, Mary, he grumbled, bending over his work so his wife could not see the look of irritation that flickered across his face. No, I merely thought you are perhaps a little melancholy and lacking for company. You might spend the day with my mother and sisters. I am sure a change of scenery will soon have you feeling more yourself.

I can’t! Mary sighed, dejectedly. I must remain at home, for Anne is due to arrive at any hour. She glared at her husband. At least one of us ought to remain here to meet her.

Of course, Charles spoke through gritted teeth and took time to affix a smile to his face before looking up at his wife. Well, then you shall be cheered by her arrival. You know Anne always improves you.

You suggest I need improvement?

Charles sighed. His wife was prickly this evening. I hope for both our sakes that Anne’s coming improves you, he thought, wincing as he pinched the tip of his finger between two parts of his rifle.

It is interesting... Mary mused aloud after a long moment of silence where all that was to be heard was the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Charles? she prompted, and her husband obediently lifted his head. I said it is interesting that Anne has never married.

Perhaps we ought to find her a husband.

Charles had meant the comment in jest, thinking that he could not envisage Anne Elliot suiting a single gentleman of his acquaintance and rather lamenting the fact. She was to remain at Uppercross only a short time before going on to join the rest of her family at Bath. The thought of the whole winter - worse, perhaps a year or more! - of his wife without her sister’s company to soften the worst of Mary’s character was not a happy one. I suppose she might be persuaded to remain here if she were to marry someone who lives close by.

There, now! Mary sat up in her seat, animated by this latest thought. That is a very interesting idea, Charles! We must find Anne a husband! No, do not look like that. I know you are thinking, as I was, that she would be more likely to find a suitor in Bath, where she will be exposed to a calibre of gentlemen far more suitable for an Elliot. But I have already considered this. She looked at him carefully, her lips quirking. "There are indeed many more handsome and eligible bachelors in Bath than there are here, but there are also ten times as many pretty young ladies. You said so yourself, Anne is not exactly pretty. No, she will appear to greater advantage here in the countryside, when there are far fewer young ladies to compete with."

Charles considered this for a moment.

There is just one slight problem with your plan, my dear. He finished fiddling with his rifle and set it absentmindedly on the settee beside him before turning back to his wife. Anne may be faced with less competition here in the countryside, but we are also faced with a far smaller pool of suitors to choose from.

That is not a problem at all! Mary declared, with a flick of her elegant wrist. Trust me, Charles. I shall find the perfect prospect for her.

Is that so? Charles could not help but feel the sting of challenge rise up in his chest. And what if I make my own suggestion for a suitor? I have just as much knowledge of Anne as you -

Ha! Mary sniffed. I am her sister. I know her better than she knows herself. Her features relaxed into a smile as she entertained the twin notions of successfully matching her sister and at the same time proving herself cleverer than her husband. But if you wish to make it a challenge...

Very well! Charles, who loved games and contests of all kinds and had never yet had any luck in interesting his wife in them, beamed. Let us set the terms. By the time the year is out, Anne Elliot shall be married - or at the very least engaged to be married. We shall both put our suitors forward, and if she prefers yours or mine - and it shall be mine, I am sure of it - then that person shall be the victor.

Very well. Mary nodded, rising from her chair and picking her way across the small, crowded parlour to the door. I think I will come to Uppercross with you in the morning. Anne is well-known enough to our staff that they will look after her if she arrives before I return. I should very much like to speak with Louisa and Henrietta about a few things...

CAPTAIN FREDERICK WENTWORTH was a prisoner.

Not a prisoner, he corrected himself. In hiding. He grimaced, staring up at the white ceiling of his room in the house of his sister and wondering which of the two options made for a less shameful confession. I am embracing my solitude, he decided at last. After far too many months and years surrounded by my men and at the beck and call of juniors and superiors alike, I am relishing the chance to be alone.

It was a lie, of course, but not a complete one. Rolling over, he shuffled to the